


some princes don't become kings

by brave_muffin



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, ghost au, hajime and fuyuhiko are little shits and secretly best friends but they'd never admit it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:01:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brave_muffin/pseuds/brave_muffin
Summary: "Oh, I'm dead and he's shit at writing yet, for some reason unknown to man, he decided to become an author. We're quite the pair."- also known as the one in which Hajime writes, Fuyuhiko haunts his apartment and Peko is their very tired landlord. Ghost au.





	1. one problem at a time, please

chapter one – one problem at a time, please

 

Hajime remembers once when he was around five, asking his mother if ghosts were real.

“The only ghosts that exist, darling,” she’d said. “Are the ghosts of our memories.”

Well, she was dead now and apparently very wrong.

The ghost standing in the middle of his apartment stares at him. Hajime waves. The ghost gives him the middle finger.

Well.

 

//

 

Fact: the ghost’s name is Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. He has blond hair and golden eyes. He likes to cuss, especially at his new roommate that he doesn’t want.

Not a fact: he eats all the _Cheerios_ in the kitchen. Merely a suspicion. But Hajime is going to catch him one day, he swears.

 

//

 

“Shouldn’t you be writing?” Fuyuhiko asks him. This is the first time he has spoken since Hajime accused him of eating all the _Cheerios._

“Yup,” Hajime says, shovelling a handful of crackers into his mouth. Fuyuhiko wrinkles his nose in disgust. For a ghost, he is very snobbish.

“So…are you going to write?” Fuyuhiko is standing at the end of the couch that Hajime is sprawled out on. Fuyuhiko crosses his arms and glares down at him.

“Nope.”

Fuyuhiko makes a huffing noise through his nose. “If I was physically able to pour a bucket of water on you, know that I would.”

“This is the twentieth century,” Hajime replies, not looking away from his TV which is broadcasting an episode of _Adventure Time_. “We don’t use buckets anymore.”

Fuyuhiko makes the huffing noise again, but more violently this time.

 

//

 

Fact: Peko is Hajime’s (and apparently Fuyuhiko’s by proxy) landlord. She is a tall woman with sharp silver hair that cuts off at her chin. Hajime is slightly scared of her, but only in that you-look-like-you-kill-men-for-a-living kind of way.

Not a fact: Fuyuhiko has a crush on her. He _doesn’t_. He only likes her leather jackets. That’s all.

 

//

 

“Hajime,” Peko sighs. He thinks that she has a sigh especially dedicated to the way she says his name at this point. “We have more complaints of you talking to yourself again. Neighbouring rooms think you’re insane.”

“I probably am,” Hajime muses. She doesn’t look amused.

“I know that they say all writers are mad and they channel that madness into writing excellent novels, but please stop inflicting your madness onto everyone else.”

Hajime just stares at her. She’s wearing a leather jacket with a white t-shirt. Fuyuhiko so owes him one. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Peko blinks at him from behind her glasses. He can hear Fuyuhiko call him a ‘motherfucker’ from across the room but he ignores it. “Are you…hitting on me?” she asks, eventually.

“You’re not my type,” says Hajime.

Fuyuhiko is standing next to him now, all anger confined in a tweed suit. “Stop it or I swear to god, Hinata, I will make your life hell,” he hisses. Hajime continues to ignore him.

“Well,” Peko says, looking vaguely confused. “I am single but – “

“Great, what’s your type?” Hajime interrupts.

“Hinata, I _swear_ – “ Fuyuhiko starts.

“Um, blondes, I guess?” Peko says. There’s a chain around her neck with a key on it and she wraps her fingers around it lightly. “I really don’t understand where this is going, Hajime.”

“Oh, that’s it,” Hajime says, cheerily. “Just wanted to know, I guess.”

“Right,” she frowns. “Well, just…keep it down, alright?”

“Yup,” he replies and she walks away looking bewildered.

He shuts the door. Beside him, Fuyuhiko is staring at the door with his mouth open. “You’re catching flies,” Hajime says and heads towards the kitchen.

“God,” says Fuyuhiko, snapping out of his stupor to glare at Hajime’s back. “You’re such a bitch.”

Hajime only hums in response. All the _Cheerios_ are gone again. God damn it.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime has no friends or family. They’re all dead.

Lie: he’s absolutely fine with this. Absolutely.

 

//

 

“So,” Hajime starts with a cup of coffee in his hands at three in the morning on a Tuesday in the middle of September. “Why are you…you.”

“Genetics,” Fuyuhiko replies like a smartass. He’s buried his head into Hajime’s sink, trying to unclog the piping. His ability to touch physical objects comes and goes and Hajime really doesn’t want to bother Peko. Hence, ghost plumber. Hajime thinks he should write a book about it.

Hajime gives him a fake laugh and gets a kick in the shin that only half fazes through his leg. “I meant why are you a ghost, jackass.”

“Don’t insult me, I’m doing you a favour,” Fuyuhiko grumbles.

“Excuse me, I believe it is you who owes me after I bought you the ice-cream you wanted,” Hajime says.

“I couldn’t eat it,” Fuyuhiko deadpans, rolling out from underneath the sink to give Hajime a disbelieving look.

“Irrelevant. You haven’t answered my question.”

Fuyuhiko rolls back under the sink. “I don’t know why I’m a ghost. I just am.”

“Do you have some unfinished business or something?” Hajime asks.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Fuyuhiko replies.

“Can you leave the apartment?”

“Nah,” Fuyuhiko says, reaching out and grabbing a wrench. “If I take a step out the door, I feel like I’m dying.”

“How did you die?” Hajime asks.

“Can’t remember,” Fuyuhiko grunts, turning the wrench around the pipe with all his strength.

“What’s the last thing you can remember?”

Fuyuhiko opens his mouth to reply but the pipe bursting and exploding with a burst of water interrupts him.

Hajime feels the water seep into his blue fluffy socks. “Well,” he says and sips his cup of coffee.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime doesn’t like plumbers. He also doesn’t like mechanics.

Lie: it’s because he just doesn’t like people he doesn’t know touching his stuff and being in his space.

Truth: his brothers had been a plumber and a mechanic respectively. He doesn’t like to think about it too much.

 

//

 

The plumber that Peko orders them has bright pink hair and makes quick, jerky movements as though he’s about to do an action but stops halfway through.

Fuyuhiko hates him. Hajime is delighted.

“Do you often do DIY?” the plumber asks.

“Oh yeah,” Hajime replies. Fuyuhiko makes that huffing noise from beside him. “But, I’m terrible at it. Like, to the point where I shouldn’t be allowed to touch _anything_ in this apartment because I really am just a menace.”

“I get the point,” Fuyuhiko grumbles.

“Right…” the plumber says eventually and crouches by the sink.

“I’m Hajime, by the way.”

“You know,” Fuyuhiko says, spitefully. “Hajime Hinata? The name you will never see on any bookshelf because he’ll never finish writing his book?”

Hajime almost laughs but holds it in.

The plumber doesn’t seem to notice. He grins at Hajime in a way that reminds him distinctly of a Labrador. “I’m Kazuichi. I’m a plumber.”

“I noticed,” Hajime replies. The plumber – Kazuichi – somehow manages to grin even wider.

“I don’t have any friends around here,” Kazuichi says. (“I wonder why,” Fuyuhiko mumbles. Hajime elbows him in a way that he hopes just looks like he has a cramp in his arm.) “Do you want to hang out sometime?”

“No,” says Fuyuhiko.

“Sure,” says Hajime.

He receives a glare from Fuyuhiko and another dopey grin from Kazuichi. He feels surprisingly happy.

 

//

 

Fact: Fuyuhiko used to be a part of a band called The Almost. They played rock songs with poetic lyrics that had double meanings.

Also a fact: they were terrible.

 

//

 

“I just don’t understand why you thought it was ok for you to abuse your audience’s ears like that,” Hajime says, sitting at his Writing Desk That He Never Actually Writes At.

“Shut the fuck up,” Fuyuhiko replies from where he’s crouched in front of Hajime’s bookshelf, critiquing its contents.

“Hey man, watch your profanity.” Hajime points at the sign above his desk that reads No Profanity Zone.

“I don’t give a shit,” Fuyuhiko says. Hajime gasps as though he’s scandalised. Fuyuhiko hides his grin behind a copy of 1984.

“Who wrote the lyrics?” Hajime asks, scrolling through his laptop to glance through the band’s Wikipedia page.

“Me…” Fuyuhiko says, glancing at Hajime from the corner of his eye.

Hajime gives him a thumbs up. “They were the only good thing about the band,” he says.

Fuyuhiko snorts and drops a book on human biology into the bin beside him. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

There is a moment of peaceful silence between them.

“I guess you could say that you were _almost_ good,” Hajime says.

Fuyuhiko throws a copy of _Wuthering Heights_ at him while Hajime cackles.

 

//

 

Fact: new people are moving into the apartment across from Hajime’s. A boy and a girl.

Lie: Hajime didn’t notice that they were attractive. Not at all.

 

//

 

“So, who are they?” Hajime asks Peko as nonchalantly as he can manage. She still hasn’t asked him why he keeps asking her to come up to his apartment every time he wants to talk to her. He doesn’t think he has the strength to tell her it’s because his dead roommate likes her.

“Subtle,” Fuyuhiko murmurs from where he sits on the couch. Hajime wonders if he ever gets tired of always wearing a suit.

“It’s really not my place to say, Hajime,” Peko sighs. “Not if you’re looking for gossip.”

“Just wanted to know their names, Peko,” Hajime says, holding his hands up to look as innocent as possible.

“Quite badgering her, Hinata,” Fuyuhiko grumbles, moving off the couch just so he can cross his arms at Hajime and look mildly threatening.

“Defending your girlfriend?” Hajime asks before he can stop himself.

Fuyuhiko flushes red and glares at him. Peko looks confused. “What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” Hajime says, hurriedly. “Well, you look like you’re in a rush and I don’t want to keep you.”

“I don’t have anywhere I need to be – “ Peko starts but Hajime shuts the door in her face with a cheery _See you later!_

Hajime leans against the door and covers his face. “Oh my god,” he groans.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Fuyuhiko says.

“Shut up, you’re dead,” Hajime replies.

“Good one.”

 

//

 

The girl who lives across from them in number 13 is at his door. She has rosy pink hair that is plaited down her back and has yellow flowers braided into it. She’s dressed in a dress that cinches at the waist. Hajime opens the door.

“Hello,” she says, cheerily.

“Hello,” he echoes.

She thrust a tray of brownies into his hands. “Didn’t want to seem like unwelcoming neighbours,” she smiles.

“Right,” he says. There are faint freckles on her nose. “Um, I’m Hajime.”

“Chiaki.” She’s still smiling. He wonders if by spending too much time with Fuyuhiko has averted him to any look of joy from other human beings.

“Yes,” is all he can think to say. She giggles. Her dress has little dogs patterned on it.

“Dear lord, you are hopeless,” Fuyuhiko says from behind him.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Chiaki says. “I think he’s doing quite well.”

Hajime stares at her. Fuyuhiko also stares. She raises an eyebrow at them. “Yes?”

 

//

 

Fact: the girl from apartment 13 can see ghosts.

Not a fact: she’s the sun in human form. Merely speculation. But Hajime thinks he can prove it. Probably. Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i call this piece....taking procrastinating ur pushing daisies au to a whole new level....  
> but yes. ghost au. can u tell that i just love hajime and fuyuhiko interacting. like my sons are both such little shits they deserve each other.  
> please write me a comment and let me know if you want me to continue! idk what this is except that its two in the morning and im tired.  
> until next time - nic


	2. love, what a fickle thing

chapter two – love, what a fickle thing

 

Hajime remembers watching videos about people who went into haunted houses and claimed that they saw a volatile spirit.

He wonders if he can technically say that he met an aggressive spirit after living here.

“If you fucking accuse me of eating your fucking _Cheerios_ one more time,” the ghost haunting his apartment says, “I’m going to take a pipe and bash your skull in with it.”

Hajime just sips milk from a bowl devoid of any cereal.

“I can’t even _eat_ anything,” the ghost, Fuyuhiko, snaps.

“That’s what they all say,” Hajime replies. Fuyuhiko throws a cushion at him.

Well.

 

//

 

Fact: the man who lives with Chiaki has fluffy white hair that reminds Hajime of cotton candy. Or a cloud. He isn’t sure yet.

Not a fact: he isn’t human. Hajime just thinks he might not be of this world. Nothing confirmed as of yet.

 

//

 

“Hello, my name is Nagito Komaeda,” the man who lives in apartment 13 along with Chiaki says. “I think,” he adds.

“You think?” Hajime asks. Nagito is very tall. His head almost brushes the top of Hajime’s doorway.

“I’m like, 98% sure,” Nagito says.

“Do you attract crazy people or something?” Fuyuhiko asks from beside Hajime. Hajime can only shrug. Nagito looks curious.

“Is the ghost here right now?” he asks. There’s a camera looped around his neck with a rainbow strap.

“He’s always here,” Hajime sighs. “Wait, how do you know – “

“Chiaki tells me everything. We’re best friends,” Nagito says. “Well, I’ve got to get to work. Ciao!” With a cheery wave, Nagito turns and disappears down the hallway.

“He isn’t wearing shoes,” Hajime says. He turns to Fuyuhiko to give him a disbelieving look. “Fuyuhiko, he’s not wearing shoes.”

“I noticed,” Fuyuhiko drawls.

“Why am I attracted to him?” Hajime asks, half talking to himself.

“Jesus Christ,” Fuyuhiko groans. Hajime can only agree.

 

//

 

Fact: Chiaki, from what Hajime has seen, always wears dresses. They usually have some wild and bright pattern on them.

Also a fact: Hajime likes them.

 

//

 

“How can you see ghosts?” Hajime asks her once when she’s over at his apartment. He’s only known her for a few days but already she has made herself at home in his space. There’s two mugs on the drying rack, the one with the slogan _Pugs Not Drugs_ is Chiaki’s and the one that reads _Pugs And Drugs_ is Nagito’s.

“Well, I’ve talked to other people that can see ghosts and they said that you can only see spirits if you’ve seen someone die.” She’s sitting at his Writing Desk That He Never Actually Writes At while he lies across his couch. She’s stretched her leg out and he’s cupping her ankle with his hand. He can feel her pulse through her skin.

“Oh,” he says. Her dress has pineapples on it today.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks and he thinks that this is the first time that he’s seen her not look completely consumed with happiness.

“Do you?” he asks in return.

“Not particularly,” she replies and turns back to his laptop. She’s reading the novel he’s working on and he finds that instead of tensing up, he doesn’t really mind.

“Can I come out now?” Fuyuhiko calls out from the bathroom.

“No, we’re still having sex,” Chiaki replies. Hajime snorts and she grins at him like she usually does.

 

//

 

Fact: Fuyuhiko does not understand any references that Hajime makes in front of him. Hajime finds this hilarious.

Lie: Fuyuhiko never gets irrationally angry about this.

 

//

 

During the night, someone must have crashed their car into the pavement. The fence at the front of their apartment complex has been mangled.

“Oh,” Hajime says when he sees it. “Mood.”

“What.” Fuyuhiko squints at him in confusion. Hajime only nods sagely and sips his coffee. “You weird me out sometimes, man.”

“Mood,” Hajime repeats.

“Stop!”

Hajime laughs.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime has had strange dreams before. He usually forgets them by the time he gets up.

Also a fact: he doesn’t forget this one.

 

//

 

Hajime is in a bar. He looks around. The place is seedy and rowdy. Someone slaps a hand onto his shoulder, hard enough that he stumbles. Laughter rumbles from behind him. He turns around and sees a muscular man with a light-brown perm grinning at him widely. Hajime thinks he looks like a biker, and a dangerous one at that.

“Sorry there little man,” the biker guffaws. “Forgot you’re fragile!”

“Fuck off,” Hajime says before he can stop himself. He’s grinning. He doesn’t know why, but this feels familiar. This feels like muscle memory.

“Aw, leave him be,” another man says as he sidles up. His hair is bright red and his lip is pierced. He reaches out and pinches Hajime’s cheek. Hajime bats the hand away without any real aggression.

Another man comes up but he looks sweeter than the rest, with a rounder face and a soft disposition. Beside him is a woman with lilac hair and a passive face. “We’re due up on stage in eight hours. We have to do another sound check,” the woman says.

“Ugh,” the biker groans. “Another one?”

“I’d rather not,” the red head whines.

“Well, when your equipment stops working on mid-song, don’t come crying to me.” The woman pauses to give the sweet man a quick glance before she turns on her heel and leaves. The biker watches her walk away and Hajime punches him in the arm.

“Have some respect, dick,” he chides. The biker simply grunts before all of them follow the woman out the bar.

The sweet man turns his head and gives Hajime a grateful smile. Hajime opens his mouth, to say something, he doesn’t know what because the next moment –

he’s awake.

He blinks at the ceiling. He tries to understand his dream but he finds he just can’t.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Fuyuhiko asks. Hajime lifts his head and sees his ghostly roommate sitting, slouched in the wicker chair in the corner of his bedroom.

“Sorry, little man,” Hajime says.

“What did you just say?” Fuyuhiko asks. He looks pale. He always looks pale, a side effect of being dead he had once said, but now he looks completely white, as though Hajime has brought up the ghosts of the past that should’ve been left alone.

“Nothing,” Hajime says. “Ignore me, I’m just tired.” He turns around and closes his eyes, determined to go to sleep. He can feel Fuyuhiko’s stare on his back for the rest of the night.

 

//

 

Fact: another man and woman have moved in but this time it’s next door to Hajime. They call themselves ghost hunters.

Lie: they are completely professional.

 

//

 

“Show us the ghost!” the man who lives next door exclaims after he waltzes into Hajime’s apartment without knocking. Hajime is sitting on his old couch, eating _Cheerios_ in his _Cookie Monster_ pyjamas. He feels exposed.

“Gundham!” the woman says as she walks in as well. “You need to knock first. We talked about this.”

“Ah, yes. My apologies,” he says to Hajime and the two of them leave, closing the door behind them.

There is a beat of silence. Someone knocks the door.

“I swear my life was peaceful before you showed up,” Fuyuhiko sighs from the bookshelf.

“ _’Life’_ ,” Hajime replies, using air quotes. Fuyuhiko scowls at him. Hajime answers the door.

The man – Gundham – grins wildly at him. He has a third eye drawn on his forehead in sharpie and multiple runes tattooed on his arms. “Greetings, mortal! We heard there is a ghost problem around these parts. You will aid us!”

“We hope you will, is what we’re saying,” the woman interjects. She also has runes on her arms. Her blonde hair swings around her shoulders as she bounces on the smalls of her feet. “I am Sonia and this is my life partner, Gundham. We are the Ghostbusters!”

“Oh,” Hajime says. “Like the movie?”

“The what?” They say in unison. They’re wearing matching outfits – black v-necks and dark skinny jeans. He is holding an old looking book and she has a utility belt around her waist. Hajime feels so tired.

“Never mind. Besides, there’s not a ghost here so – “ As though Fuyuhiko had waited for Hajime to say just that, he knocks Hajime’s cereal bowl off the coffee table and it clatters on the floor. Hajime turns around and glares at Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko smiles back at him sarcastically.

Gundham has narrowed his eyes at Hajime, suspiciously. “Unless…” he says. “ _You_ are the ghost.”

Sonia gasps and looks delighted. “Wow! I’ve never met a real ghost before!”

“Worry not, my dear, I know what to do!” Gundham tears through his book with a passion while Sonia watches on.

Hajime closes the door.

“I’m going to bed and I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the week,” he says to Fuyuhiko. Fuyuhiko just grins at him.

 

//

 

Fact: Peko owns the apartment complex they all live in, Raven Housing. Hajime doesn’t know where she got the money and sometimes he’s too scared to ask.

Not a fact: she’s probably a princess from some foreign land. Not confirmed yet. _Yet._

//

 

“I have a date,” Peko says.

Nagito gasps from where he has clambered onto Hajime’s kitchen counter. “But you can’t.”

Hajime glances over and sees Fuyuhiko staring at Peko with a down-trodden look. It makes something itch in his chest.

“Why can’t I have a date?” Peko asks Nagito.

“Because the ghost who haunts this apartment complex has a crush on you,” Nagito says, stretching out until his feet are in the sink. Fuyuhiko makes an angry noise but Hajime doesn’t look over.

“Ignore him,” Hajime sighs. “I think he’s on drugs.”

“Right,” Peko says. Fuyuhiko has stopped looking at her like a sad puppy and has disappeared into the bathroom.

“Who is the date with?” Hajime asks.

“Some rich guy,” Peko says, reaching past Nagito to grab a handful of _Cheerios_ from the box and munches on them. It’s the most human thing Hajime has ever seen her do.

“Do you like him?” Nagito asks. He reaches over and links his arm through her’s.

“Honestly? No. I just feel like every guy I go out with is…missing something.” She frowns at the cereal in her hands. “I just don’t know what.”

“How about this,” Nagito says. “You cancel the date and hang out with me, Chiaki and Hajime here. We can play Mario Kart.”

Peko looks over at Hajime with pursed lips. He smiles at her in a way that he hopes looks encouraging and supportive. It must work because she smiles back at them. “Alright.”

Hajime watches her walk out as she brings her phone out. He stands up and reaches past Nagito for the _Cheerios_ as well. Nagito wraps his arms around Hajime’s waist lightly.

“Is she gone?” Fuyuhiko asks from the bathroom.

“She’s not going on the date,” Hajime calls back.

He pretends not to hear Fuyuhiko fall over and knock down a shelf.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime has more friends than he’s had in a while. Even though one of them is dead.

Also a fact: he can’t remember the last time he was this happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't believe i forgot to say again but the title is from Fall out boy's stay frosty royal milk tea.  
> but wow!! this story got a lot of attention im quaking. thank you so much to everyone who has commented so far, comments make my day so please drop me one.  
> my tumblr is bravemccalll if u wanna chat.  
> until next time! - nic


	3. despite what you might think, I am alive

chapter three – despite what you might think, I am alive

 

Hajime used to think that ghosts were vague shapes that you always saw at the corner of your eye but could never actually see face on.

He was very wrong and the ghost pacing his kitchen at four in the morning was proof of that.

“Go back to bed, shithead,” the ghost says.

Well.

 

//

 

Someone knocks on his door at exactly midnight. Hajime doesn’t get up from his couch.

“Are you gonna get that?” Fuyuhiko asks, throwing an egg up in the air and catching it. Hajime thinks about how at one point, Fuyuhiko is going to lose the ability to touch physical items and the egg is going to splatter all over the ground.

“I really don’t want to,” Hajime replies. He gets up anyway.

He sees Gundham and Sonia through the peephole. He opens the door against his better judgement.

“Aha!” Gundham exclaims. Hajime already regrets every decision he has made in his life. “I have a few questions for you – “

An egg smashes onto the ground somewhere behind him. Hajime sighs.

“Can ghosts move objects even when we don’t see them move right in front of us?” Sonia whispers.

“It seems so,” Gundham replies.

Hajime closes the door.

 

//

 

Fact: Fuyuhiko has a nervous tick. It is where he runs his right thumb along the side of his pointer finger.

Not a fact: he does this because he wants to go home. His home isn’t this apartment. Hajime doesn’t know this for sure. Hajime just suspects.

 

//

 

“I think Fuyuhiko needs to move on,” is how Chiaki greets Hajime when he goes over to her apartment.

“Hello,” Hajime replies. “I brought that tea you wanted. And what?”

“Oh,” Nagito coos from the couch. “Chamomile.”

Hajime collapses next to Nagito. Chiaki repeats what she had said. “You say that like he just got out of a relationship,” Hajime says.

“In a way he did,” Nagito muses. “His relationship with life.”

“Dear god, how many drugs are you on?” Hajime says. Nagito grins.

Chiaki drops onto Hajime’s lap and throws her legs over Nagito’s. “I think he needs to find the closure that he needs and move onto the next level of life.”

“Darling, we talked about you comparing everything to video games,” Nagito says.

Chiaki drums her fingers on Hajime’s shoulder. “Do you know how he died?” she asks.

“Nada,” Hajime replies, looping his arms around her waist. “He doesn’t remember.”

“Well, he’s famous, isn’t he?” Nagito says. “Surely his death got some coverage when it happened.”

“That’s true,” Hajime says. “Hey, good idea, Ko.”

Nagito smiles at him. Hajime feels surprisingly light.

 

//

 

Fact: Nagito is a professional photographer. He usually takes photographs for weddings.

Also a fact: he makes extra copies of each photo he takes. He draws moustaches on them and sticks them up around his apartment. Hajime’s favourite is the one of a woman with red hair who Nagito had drawn an eyepatch on.

 

//

 

“Do you want to pass on?” Hajime asks Fuyuhiko.

Fuyuhiko pauses where he stands in front of the oven, pretending that he actually knows how it works. “I guess? I don’t want to spend more time with you than I have to,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah, you hate me, et cetera, et cetera. Just wanted to warn you because Chiaki is coming over in about – “ Hajime checks his watch. “ – Two seconds with all the information surrounding your death.”

Fuyuhiko opens his mouth to say something but Chiaki bursts in before he can get a word out. She thrusts a sheet of paper into the air above her head. “Severe head trauma,” she cries, her chest heaving, her braid a wind-blown mess.

“Try again,” Hajime says.

“Severe head trauma,” Chiaki repeats, more solemnly. She turns to Fuyuhiko and shoves the piece of paper in his face. “You were smashed over the head with a three-kilogram weight. The police never found out who did it.”

“Ah,” Fuyuhiko says, distantly.

“You alright?” Hajime asks.

Fuyuhiko nods. “Yeah,” he scoffs. “It’s whatever.”

Hajime and Chiaki share a look. “So, I was thinking if we can figure out who did this to you then you can move onto the next level of life.”

“Chiaki. No game metaphors,” Nagito calls from his apartment. Chiaki kicks the front door closed with her foot without looking.

“So, what’s the last thing you remember?” Chiaki continues.

“Nothing special. I was having lunch with the band.” Fuyuhiko frowns down at the cooker. “I feel like I knew something I shouldn’t have. But I don’t know what. The meal felt tense.”

“What was tense?” Hajime says.

“All the members.” Fuyuhikos stops and crosses his arms. “I think… I think I had found something out…about all of them. A secret. I just can’t remember what.” He looked frustrated at himself.

“Hey,” Chiaki says, reaching out and patting Fuyuhiko’s shoulder. “It’s a start. As my mother liked to say, it’s better than nothing.” Fuyuhiko gives her a smile that is there and then gone.

There is a beat of silence.

“Chiaki, where did you get all that information?” Hajime asks, nodding to the sheets of paper clutched in her hands.

“Oh,” she replies, smiling brightly. “I stole it from the library.” Fuyuhiko chokes on a laugh while Hajime sighs and flops backwards onto his couch.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime doesn’t have a lot of love for coffee. He still drinks it. He drinks it too much.

Also a fact: he drinks it at three in the morning while Fuyuhiko nags at him to go to bed. (Once Fuyuhiko actually managed to smack the mug out of Hajime’s hands. They had both stood in silence before Hajime made another cup. Fuyuhiko had looked exasperated.)

 

//

 

“I’m just saying what you’re thinking,” Nagito says.

“None of us were thinking that Fuyuhiko and Peko should date,” Chiaki points out. Hajime nods his agreement against her thigh.

“Well, why not?” Nagito says, rubbing his hand up and down Hajime’s shin. “He likes her, she likes him… _subconsciously_ anyways.”

“He’s dead and she can’t see him,” says Hajime.

“A minor obstacle,” Nagito says.

“ _Minor_ ,” Hajime repeats.

“You know,” Chiaki interrupts. “We could ask that couple that live next to you if they have anything for seeing ghosts.”

“The Ghostbusters?” Hajimes says. “I doubt they will. If they did, they would be using it themselves.”

“Do they still think you’re a ghost?” Nagito asks.

Hajime nods. Nagito snorts.

“Remind me to ask them anyway,” Chiaki says.

 

//

 

Fact: Sonia and Gundham have a pentagram drawn in the centre of their living room.

Lie: this is the strangest thing that Hajime has ever seen in his life time.

Truth: walking in on Kazuichi chopping his hair in his bathroom is the strangest thing Hajime has ever seen. Despite the ghost that is haunting his apartment.

 

//

 

“I just don’t know why you’re cutting your hair in _my_ bathroom,” Hajime says.

Kazuichi looks sheepish. “Well, it needed a trim,” he explains.

“In _my_ bathroom,” Hajime repeats.

“I try not to judge your choice of friends,” Fuyuhiko says from the couch. “But this is on some next level.”

“Stop stealing Chiaki’s game metaphors,” Hajime says to him.

“What?” Kazuichi asks, looking confused, his hand still raised over his head, a pair of scissors clutched between his fingers.

“Nothing,” Hajime sighs. Having a ghost in his flat is proving to be more stressful than he was prepared for it to be.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime has nightmares. They are always short flashes of times gone by. The shine of his mother’s hair when the sun hit it just right. The glint of his father’s reading glasses. His brother’s hands, rough and work weary.

Not a fact: if Fuyuhiko could sleep, he would have dreams just like this. Hajime doesn’t know this for sure. He just thinks.

 

//

 

Peko stares at Hajime, incredulously. “Let me guess this straight,” she says. “You want me to put on these goggles and look around the apartment.”

Hajime nods. “No questions asked would be preferable.”

“This is so stupid,” Fuyuhiko mutters. Hajime elbows him in the ribs as subtly as he can.

Peko sighs and shrugs. “What have I got to lose?” she says, almost to herself and puts the goggles on.

She looks around the apartment for a few moments, the goggles magnifying her eyes and making them look as though they are bugging out of her head.

She turns to Hajime and tilts her head to the left of him, where Fuyuhiko is standing. Hajime hears Fuyuhiko inhale sharply and Hajime feels his heart stop. Her lips purse for a second.

She looks away.

Fuyuhiko sighs and Hajime turns to see him looking at her, dejectedly.

She takes off the goggles. “Was I supposed to see anything with these on?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” Hajime replies. He takes the goggles off her and feels her pulse racing beneath her skin. “I really don’t know.”

 

//

 

“Oh my god,” Nagito grins as he races into Hajime’s apartment. “Guess what I saw when I was downstairs a few minutes ago.”

“Still not wearing shoes,” Fuyuhiko observes. “Picked a real winner here.”

“What did you see?” Hajime asks.

“Peko with a book all about The Almost.” Nagito spreads his hands out in a _ta-da!_ motion.

Hajime looks over at Fuyuhiko and finds him staring at Nagito in a daze, his face flushing pink. “My band?” he asks, distantly.

“So that means she totally saw you when she put those goggles on.” Nagito reaches into one of the kitchen cupboards and grabs a handful of _Cheerios_.

“Maybe she’s just a fan of the band,” Fuyuhiko points out.

“Honey, no one’s a fan of the band,” Hajime simpers and gets a cushion thrown in his face. “But she didn’t say anything when she had the goggles on,” Hajime adds.

“Maybe she knows something,” Nagito says.

“Like what?” Fuyuhiko asks.

Hajime doesn’t have an answer for him.

 

//

 

Fact: Everyone has secrets.

Also a fact: Hajime is determined to find them out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello guys! thank you so much to everyone who has commented so far, you're all angels!!  
> my tumblr is bravemccalll if you want to talk.  
> hope you enjoy the rest of the story - nic


	4. dead, inside and out

chapter four – dead, inside and out

 

Hajime and his brothers broke into an abandoned building once when he was nine.

He had stood by the door the whole time, clutching a flashlight in shaky hands. When it flickered out, he had bolted, leaving his brothers in the dark.

At the time he had been convinced that a ghost had doused his light.

Now he knows for a fact that a ghost tampered with his light.

“What did I tell you about touching anything electrical in this apartment?” Hajime grumbles, sweeping up the broken glass that used to be a lightbulb in his ceiling light.

“Shut up,” says the ghost haunting his apartment, sitting sullenly on the sofa in the living room like a scolded child.

“I don’t even know how you managed this if I’m being completely honest,” Hajime continues. “Like, this is almost impressive – “

The ghost throws a lamp at him.

Well.

 

//

 

Hajime points a knife at Fuyuhiko. “Slide one more item off my counter and I’m phoning the police.”

Fuyuhiko looks Hajime deep in the eyes. And knocks a packet of _Jammie Dodgers_ onto the floor.

Hajime kicks his shoe off his foot and grabs it, bringing it up to his ear. “Hello, police?”

Nagito kicks the door in. “You called?”

Fuyuhiko laughs before he can stop himself.

 

//

 

Fact: Peko sighs when she sees that the doorframe is broken.

Also a fact: she sighs the entire time she phones a mechanic to come and fix it.

 

//

 

Kazuichi is the one who fixes the doorframe.

“I thought you were a plumber?” Hajime asks, eating his third bowl of _Cheerios_. He decided a few days ago that the only way to stop Fuyuhiko from stealing his _Cheerios_ is to just eat them all so there’s none left _to_ steal. His stomach is sore, but it’s outweighed by the feeling of victory in his heart.

“I’m a master of many trades,” Kazuichi boasts.

“I once saw you drop a spoon, bend down to pick it up and rattle your head against my counter,” Hajime says.

“In my defence,” Kazuichi says. “I was drunk.”

“It was four in the afternoon,” Hajime points out.

“Do you want your door fixed for half price or not,” Kazuichi says.

“ _Cheerios_ , you master of all the trades ever invented?” Hajime offers, proffering his half-eaten bowl.

He takes it. The bastard.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime is really getting tired of having odd dreams.

Also a fact: this is only the second one. But still.

 

//

 

Hajime stands on a stage in an empty stadium. He looks down and sees that in his hand, he’s clutching a drumstick. He spins it around his fingers with a practiced ease of someone who has handled it before.

“Kyouko says that one day, you’re going to do that, and the stick will fly out of your hand and you’ll lose it. And probably injure someone.”

Hajime turns around and sees a figure clambering onto the stage to join him. He recognises him from the last weird dream he had, the one in the bar. This is the man with the sweet face.

“Kyouko just refuses to recognise the extent of my skills,” Hajime says, a grin stretching across his face.

The man smiles back at him and Hajime wonders at how he somehow manages to look even sweeter.

“What are you doing up here anyway, Makoto?” Hajime asks.

The man – Makoto – loosely crosses his arms. He’s dressed very plainly – in a white t-shirt and black slacks. Hajime looks down and sees that he’s wearing a tweed suit. There’s something familiar about it but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

Makoto is looking at him expectantly. Hajime blinks and shakes his head. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Makoto just smiles and repeats himself. “Just came up to check on you. You seemed…stuck in your head.”

Hajime scowls and turns away from him. He looks around the blank stadium again, the unoccupied seats, the empty stage. He feels uncomfortable – his collar is sticking to his throat, his sleeves seem too tight around his arms, he feels as though he can’t move without one part of him stiffening up. “I’m fine,” he lies.

He doesn’t need to look over to know that Makoto is frowning. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Hajime snaps and immediately regrets it. Makoto looks wounded for a moment as he stares at his shoes. “I just… It’s not something you can help with. It’s not even _my_ problem, really.”

Makoto doesn’t seem convinced, teeth digging into his lower lip. “Is this about me and Kyouko? Because I promise that it won’t affect the band at all - ”

Hajime waves his hand dismissively. “I don’t care about that, Mak. I trust that you won’t do anything to hurt any of us. Just…be careful alright.”

Makoto nods.

They stand silently for a moment before Makoto starts to back away. “Well, if you ever need to talk.” Hajime sends him a smile and then he disappears down the stairs.

Hajime, alone again, turns to the back of the stage.

On a large screen reads:

THE ALMOST, FEBRUARY 21ST, 1968.

Hajime’s breath got caught in his throat and –

he wakes up.

Fuyuhiko looks up from where he sits in the arm chair that’s crammed into the corner of Hajime’s bedroom. “Nightmare?” he asks.

Hajime just blinks at him. “…Something like that,” he answers eventually. Fuyuhiko opens his mouth as though he’s about to say something but Hajime cuts him off. “Who is Makoto?”

Fuyuhiko blinks. “He was…He was a bandmate of mine. He was the lead singer. Why?”

“I just had a dream about him,” Hajime murmurs, eyes shifting to his pile of books on his dresser. He feels tired again, as though he hadn’t slept at all even though his alarm clock tells him that it has been five hours since he shut his eyes. “He was dating a woman named Kyouko, I think.”

Fuyuhiko’s eyes light up in recognition. “I remember that now. I stumbled upon them in his room when I came in looking for a cigarette.” He bites at his nails as he thinks, and Hajime realises why the tweed suit from the dream was so familiar. It’s the one that Fuyuhiko is always wearing.

Hajime sighs, overcome with the weight of everything all at once, and falls back asleep.

 

//

 

Fact: All the members of the Almost are dead. The next day, Hajime checked online and sure enough, none of them lived past the age of forty. Such is the life of a Rockstar, Hajime supposes.

Also a fact: Fuyuhiko, the drummer, was murdered. Leon Kuwata, their bass guitarist, died of a drug overdose. Mondo Oowada, their other bass guitarist, died of alcohol poisoning. And their lead singer, Makoto Naegi, died of cancer.

 

//

 

“Are they dreams?” Nagito asks, legs hanging over the rim of the sink that he is fully sat in. Hajime doesn’t remember when he did that but is too tired to question it. “Or are they…Fuyuhiko’s memories?”

“Who’s his supplier?” Fuyuhiko whispers to Hajime. Hajime elbows him in the gut, fazes through him and ignores Fuyuhiko’s very unattractive cackle.

“How could it be his memories?” Hajime says. “How would my mind… _know_ them? I wasn’t there in 1968. God, I wasn’t even born yet.”

“Wait, you dreamed of 1968?” Chiaki interjects. Hajime nods. “That’s the year Fuyuhiko died. 1968, March 12th.”

“My last dream was of February 21st,” Hajime says, frowning.

“This may seem insane,” Nagito says. “But is it possible that Hajime is receiving all of the memories that Fuyuhiko can’t remember.”

Fuyuhiko groans. “That _is_ insane.”

“Maybe not,” Chiaki points out. “You said yourself that you can’t remember any details of how you died. The last memory you remember, of the breakfast you had with your band? When was that?”

Fuyuhiko scuffs the sole of his shoe against the floor. “I don’t know. Early February or something? What’s it matter anyway, this isn’t possible. How could I give Hajime my memories through his dreams? It’s literally impossible.”

“You’re a ghost,” Hajime deadpans. “I don’t think you can bitch about the realm of possibility.” Fuyuhiko scowls at him. “But, though he is being a turd, he does have a point. How is he making me dream about something that even he can’t remember?”

Chiaki sighs. “I don’t know,” she says, looking defeated. Nagito leans out of the sink briefly to pat her on the shoulder. “You know who might know?”

“No,” Hajime says.

“Oh my god, please,” Nagito gasps.

“The Ghostbusters,” Chiaki finishes, a smile slowly stretching across her face. Though he thinks that she looks prettier when she smiles, Hajime can’t help but hate her in that moment.

 

//

 

Fact: Gundham and Sonia still think Hajime is a ghost.

Also a fact: this seems to greatly amuse everyone excluding Hajime himself. This is very upsetting.

 

//

 

“Ah, so has this scoundrel been touching you in your sleep?” Gundham says, too loudly for Hajime’s comfort.

“Excuse me?” Chiaki says. She blinks rapidly. There are daisies plaited into her hair and Hajime thinks she’s the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

“A ghost can share memories with a living being through skin to skin contact while the living being is asleep,” Sonia explains. She’s wearing a sunhat inside her apartment where all the curtains are drawn, the entire place shrouded in darkness. Hajime can’t find the strength in himself to even begin to analyse the number of things wrong with that.

“Well,” Nagito announces. “There we go. Come Chiaki and ghost that I cannot see because you are a ghost. Back to investigating!”

“You’re dead to me,” Hajime grumbles. Nagito grins but he doesn’t look over.

“It was nice seeing you, ghost!” Sonia says at the same time that Gundham waltzes over and sits in the pentagram drawn in the centre of the living room.

The door closes.

“God, aren’t they just interesting?” Chiaki says. “They’re so quirky.”

“Not the words I’d use, but ok,” Hajime says. Chiaki snorts and they walk back to his apartment.

 

//

 

Fact: Peko knows something about The Almost but Hajime has no idea what it could be.

Lie: Fuyuhiko doesn’t care. At all. It’s whatever.

 

//

 

“Do you like The Almost?” Hajime asks her one day.

She shrugs, somehow making the movement look majestic even while she leans against the recently restored doorframe. “Their music’s good.”

Fuyuhiko looks at her in wonder.

“No, it isn’t,” Hajime replies.

Fuyuhiko scowls at him.

A shadow of a smile flashes over her face. “Why do you ask?”

Hajime shrugs non-commitedly. “Oh, Nagito saw you with a book about them. I listened to some of their music when I was younger, so he told me about it.”

She nods in understanding.

“Much younger,” Hajime emphasises. “Like, at that angsty youth age where all your favourite music sounds like garbage. That’s when I listened to it. Just to clarify.”

“I will end your life,” Fuyuhiko says.

A full smile spreads across Peko’s face. “Well, I have paperwork to do. It was nice talking to you Hajime,” she says and starts to back out of the apartment.

If her eyes scan the living room, as though looking for something that she can’t quite see, Hajime doesn’t mention it.

 

//

 

Fact: Hajime sometimes wonders if his life would have been easier if he had picked an apartment that didn’t have a grumpy ghost in it.

Also a fact: it probably would have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this was a bad chapter. like in a 'i am hyper aware of how long it has been since i updated this fic n i kinda just wanna give u guys something even if i do feel like its bad' kind way.  
> well, less cute shippy stuff in this chapter and more fuyuhiko's backstory.  
> also fuyuhiko as a ghost is just a grumpy cat sorry not sorry  
> until next time! - nic


End file.
